


Makahiya

by orphan_account



Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018)
Genre: Bakit nga ba torpe si Corang, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Torpe problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Makahiya - Shy plant (mimosa pudica)And despite the looks of a cherub how come she ended up being a plant, to be specific, shy plant.( taglish, but mainly English )





	Makahiya

**"Ano nga ba ang gusto mo sa isang binibini?"**

_Maganda, matangkad, matalino._ Those were Corang's answers, her thoughts. She is, as if a boy yearns for his dream.

She still explores her newfound freedom. The world was a scary place, for being trapped in their house for a long time that had her blinded to what ugly sights she sees. Everyone was so strict and even so she was free, she has a rank. She'd like to brand herself useless in that matter. She's posing as a young boy who cannot read or write. Her looks could pass easily, if she didn't cut off her waist long hair before joining.

She isn't so significant, that's what they think of her. Running over the trenches they made, shouting and shooting. Hell it might be the end of her heart from all the anger she has to deal with her fellow soldiers. It was far from her nom de guerre, Querubin. If a cute face is deadly, it has to be her with her aim.

She's innocent too, so clueless ever get snared from picking up lessons from them how to woo a lady. It was her, scrambling for her mess ups and wishing she'd be swallowed by the soil from her embarrassment. The leaves have folded at the slightest one then reopen given the time.

With the company of gentlement, she was singing. It wasn't bad till she saw how the lady looked like judging her. Then it became a shaky mess. The lady laughed and rejected her. She was frozen like deer, then ran off crying. Her voice now sealed away, never to be heard of again. She wishes to be buried after that incident, her voice became capable of producing squeaks.

Then there was herself who seem to fall for women that manages to snag her attention. She wants to reach out to them but uncertainty causes her to recoil. Even at their attention she shies away. Countless handkerchiefs were gifted even at the cost of her injured fingers from her poor eyesight. She yearns and adores them, even submitting in effort to please them. She had exchanged kisses, rare nights that have seared in her mind, heated moments behind the doors, and yet her voice refuses to come out to say her feelings, but it doesn't matter when society is so strict with her. Her tears speak for herself.

Her wild spirit is still there, though to love became the scariest thing for her to face. Charming to say but to face the risks she's betting, she backs off. Gods she's starving for something she is longing for, even in the darkest hours. She is a troubled spirit molded by mishaps, as if for the right one to come and calm her down in those troubles. She always pushed herself around for them yet every once in a while she recoils.

In a small plant with thorns and dark green leaves, she recoils in touch and affection. Later opens up on her own, along with a tiny bloom...she is the weed one would find in the fields.


End file.
